


Consequences

by LibbyWeasley



Series: Not Quite Ruined [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Earl of Perth, F/M, Kissing for Cover, Library Sex, Morning Sickness, Most Wanted Fic Exchange, Pregnancy, Regency, Spies, Spy Bobbi, Viscount Hunter, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 20:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18198854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/pseuds/LibbyWeasley
Summary: Hunter and Fitz are recruited by Coulson to spy for England. Of course that means they are going to encounter Coulson's best spy, Bobbi.





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunalso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/gifts).



> This fic is for the lovely @sunalsolove and was written for the Most Wanted Fic Exchange. The prompt was Historical AU with fluff, smut, bickering, and a happily ever after. <3
> 
> This is set in the Not Quite Ruined universe. This story starts in 1812 -- before the events of Not Quite Ruined -- and ends in 1815 -- right after the end of Not Quite Ruined. You don't have to read Not Quite Ruined to read this, but you might want to so you know what happens in the middle.
> 
> A huge thank you to @blancasplayground the most amazing beta ever.

_1812_

Hunter looked out at the Thames, turning the ring over in his hand. He had been meaning to chuck the bloody thing in, but for some reason his muscles wouldn’t cooperate.

He’d told Bobbi he’d divorce her if she left, but they both knew it was an empty threat. He wouldn’t actually go through with it. It just wasn’t done. Plus, she’d be back. Bobbi might have been a she-devil, but some part of her must feel the same thing he did -- the pull between them that just wouldn’t let go no matter how much they might wish it would. And there were plenty of other couples among the _ton_ that didn’t share a residence. Though, Bobbi was more than _not sharing_ his residence at the moment.

He sighed and glanced over at Fitz who was waiting for him patiently, trying not to look like he was ready to dive into the river after Hunter if it came to that.

Yes, Bobbi would come crawling back some day, and when she did he wanted to have her ring to throw back in her face.

He stood up from where he was squatting, noticing the fog rolling in. Fitz was digging the toe of his boot into the ground, clearly nervous they were going to be late, and Hunter didn’t want to delay them any longer than necessary. Not tonight.

When they arrived at Lord Coulson’s townhouse, they stood outside for only a moment before being escorted into a darkened study with only a single candle burning on the desk in the center of the room.

“Lord Coulson will be with you shortly,” the butler intoned solemnly before closing the heavy oak doors firmly behind him.

“Well...he’s a friendly fellow,” Hunter joked before looking around. “He didn’t even light the candles.”

Hunter paced around the small space, reaching out to touch the book that was open on the large desk, a circle of flickering light illuminating the page.

“Hunter!” Fitz hissed.

“What? I just want to know what we are getting into,” he whispered back.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting.”

Fitz let out a strangled yell and took a step back while Hunter reached for the pistol he had tucked into his pocket.

“Sorry, I guess it was a little dark back there.”

A man stepped out of the shadows and Hunter recognized him as Lord Coulson, military hero and rumored head of Britain’s spy network.

“Coulson,” the man said, holding out his hand.

Hunter released the pistol and held out his hand.

“You must be Viscount Hunter,” Coulson said with a firm handshake. Then he turned to Fitz. “And _you_ must be Leopold Fitz, or I guess I should say the new Earl of Perth. I’ve heard you have quite the scientific mind.”

“Yes, sir, I suppose. And, just Fitz is fine. I’m not particularly fond of the title.”

Hunter glanced at his friend and saw a frown cross his features. He still didn’t know why they were here, only that a summons had been delivered by Coulson’s secretary. The man had looked fairly unassuming, but the novelty of getting a letter delivered from someone he didn’t know — someone like Coulson — had been enough to pique his interest. The fact that Fitz had gotten one as well had guaranteed his presence here tonight. Which was something that Coulson clearly understood given the pleased smile on his face.

“So what are we doing here, if you don’t mind me asking?” Hunter said, raising an eyebrow as Coulson started moving around the room, lighting more candles until a soft glow encompassed the three of them.

“Have a seat,” Coulson said, gesturing to the seating near a decanter. “Brandy?”

Hunter settled uneasily onto the surprisingly feminine settee and nodded his acceptance towards Coulson.

“How do you two feel about saving the world?” Coulson said, handing them each a crystal cut glass.

Fitz sputtered and Hunter asked, “Excuse me?”

“Well, England at least.”

Hunter took a long swallow of his brandy, suddenly very happy he had the glass in his hand.

“But...but, what do you need _us_ for?” Fitz finally asked, eyes wide.

“I need people with your skills...and access to the _ton_ ,” Coulson said calmly, looking each of them in the eye.

“Same question. Why us?” Hunter asked, suspicious of how he and Fitz had ended up in Coulson’s study. This entire meeting was starting to feel a little dodgy.

“Because I asked him to invite you.” The voice came out of the shadows, but Hunter didn’t need more than a second to know who was speaking. He would recognize her voice anywhere.

“Bloody hell!” Hunter yelled, standing up. “What is _she_ doing here?”

“Bobbi is one of my best agents,” Coulson said with a smile.

Hunter looked towards Fitz for some support, but Fitz’s eyes were darting between him and Bobbi and he didn’t look capable of making a stand right now.

“But...but she is a bloody American. And in case you forgot, we are _at war_ with them!”

“I’m confident Bobbi is on our side. Plus, she married into the aristocracy.”

“I’m well aware of that...but it doesn’t really seem like she is interested in being married anymore,” Hunter spat back. If someone had asked him to guess how his night would end, he wouldn’t have predicted this.

“Oh, Hunter. That’s enough. Coulson doesn’t want to hear the entire sordid tale. And I’m sure Fitz has already heard your version of the story.” She rolled her eyes and walked towards Coulson’s side.

“Well, then what the bloody hell am _I_ doing here?”

“Coulson needed someone he could trust to gather information from among the _ton_.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question, _Barbara_.”

“She vouched for you,” Coulson said, ending their argument.

“But why?” Fitz asked, turning his gaze to Bobbi.

“Because I know I can trust you.”

She said it so simply, like it was just a fact, that Hunter was taken aback. Their relationship seemed to have more periods of discontent than marital bliss. It was strange to hear her say that, though to be honest he’d trust her with his life. He just didn’t think he’d ever be in a situation where he’d have to.

“So that’s it? You need us to spy on our friends.” Hunter asked the question of Coulson, but directed his glare towards Bobbi.

She stuck out her tongue at him before turning back to Coulson.

“Not all of your friends. Just the bad ones. The traitors. In fact, you probably aren’t even friends with these people.”

“I’ll do it,” Fitz said firmly.

Hunter spun around, disbelief making him sound harsh. “What?”

“I’ll do it,” Fitz said again.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Coulson said warmly, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Hold on,” Hunter interrupted, holding his finger up to Coulson before he could reach his friend.

Grabbing Fitz by the arm, he dragged him into the corner.

“What are you doing?” he whispered loudly at Fitz.

“I’m helping Coulson win a war.”

“But, why?”

“Because it is the right thing to do. You know it is.”

“Maybe,” Hunter admitted. “But that doesn’t mean we _have_ to do it.”

Fitz gave him a look and Hunter felt his resolve crumble. Fitz was right. He hated that Fitz was right. But saying yes also meant that he could stay close to Bobbi. She didn’t exactly need him to protect her, but he’d feel better if he could ensure nothing bad happened to her.

“Fine. We’ll do it,” Hunter said at full volume, turning back to Coulson and Bobbi who had clearly heard every word of their conversation.

“Wonderful.” Coulson gestured for them to sit back down.

Bobbie settled next to Hunter on the settee, close enough that her skirts were brushing up against his thigh. Bobbi was in a new gown -- or at least one he hadn’t seen before -- and the sapphire fabric seemed to shimmer when she moved. But his favorite part was the way the neckline framed her decolletage. Whatever he’d paid for that dress was well worth it. His fingers itched to touch her, but considering she’d packed her trunk and stormed out less than a fortnight ago, he didn’t think she’d be very receptive to his advances. That and the fact that there were two other people in the room.

“Hunter.”

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth just in case he had been drooling and looked her in the eye.

“Hmmm?”

She tilted her head to the side raised an eyebrow. He knew that look. It was a challenge. So maybe he hadn’t been the entire reason she’d left after all. She had said they weren’t fighting for the same cause and he had thought she was talking about their relationship, but now it seemed entirely possible that she meant this. Being married was more complicated than he originally thought. When he’d married Bobbi he figured they’d just be together...and he’d bed her. He didn’t think he’d spend the rest of his life chasing after her. But Bobbi made him do all manner of things he thought he’d never do.

“Coulson asked you a question.”

“Right.”

Hunter pivoted back towards Coulson and pretended to pay attention as the man prattled on, saving most of his energy for thinking about Bobbi and what he’d have to do to get her back in his bed. She had seemed pleased that she’d caught him admiring her...assets. That meant he was much closer to getting her back than he’d thought.

“I was just saying that there is some degree of risk and danger. Both to your person and to your reputation if your involvement is discovered. Fitz, you have your title to consider. And you as well, Hunter.”

“I don’t care much for the title,” Fitz said again.

“But have you considered securing an heir?” Coulson tried to ask delicately.

Bobbi laughed, and the tinkling of her laughter made him think of happier times.

“That would require him to secure a bride first,” Hunter said, knowing the direction of Bobbi’s thoughts.

“I have an heir. He’s my cousin. And I have no interest in continuing my father’s legacy, so I’m not overly concerned about the succession,” Fitz said, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

“And Hunter has a bride. But his brother will have to remain his heir for now,” Bobbi said calmly.

“And whose fault is that?” Hunter asked.

Coulson seemed to have learned his lesson the last time and spoke before they could really get going. “As long as you understand the dangers, I will take your verbal acceptance of my offer. I’ll send you further instructions shortly through my secretary. Just remember, no one outside of this room can know what you are doing.”

Their meeting seemingly over, Fitz and Hunter stood, readying themselves to leave. Bobbi was hanging back and he assumed she had further business with Coulson. He almost walked right out the door without another word, but when he reached the door he turned and said, “Don’t die out there.”

“I won’t,” she answered. Then, more gently, “I’ll see you soon, Hunter. Make sure he stays out of trouble, Fitz.”

Fitz nodded, but then grumbled under his breath, “It would be much easier if you’d quit leaving him.”

“You know what, Fitz?” Hunter asked loudly to ensure Bobbi would overhear. “Let’s go to White’s. I feel like gambling away my fortune.”

 

* * *

 

They didn’t have to wait long to get another message from Coulson, this time with instructions to attend Lady Bedford’s ball and get as much information as they could on the political views of the men in the card room. It didn’t sound like a very interesting task, though Fitz was fairly buzzing with nerves.

“Lady Bedford’s parties are always a terrible crush,” Fitz said slowly. “It might not be easy to get the information Coulson needs.”

“I think that’s the point. We’ll just do what we’d normally do and see if anything sounds out of place, or if anyone sympathizes with Napoleon or the _Americans_ once they are in their cups.”

They spent the rest of the day in the usual pursuits and it wasn’t until he was in the carriage on the way to the ball that a slight sense of unease came over him. He had purposely avoided the beginnings of the party, when the more enterprising widows and unhappily married women would be looking for companionship for the evening.

Even married, or maybe especially married, women just seemed to love him. He assumed it was his rakish charm.

Trying to slip into the card room before he could do anything to earn a disapproving look from the hostess, his eyes took in the ballroom. It was full of the usual assortment of unmarried misses, determined chaperones, and gentlemen who were entering the marriage mart, either by choice or out of necessity.

Fitz was there, staring across the room at some chit who looked like she had just made her come out. It looked like a pretty face had already made Fitz forget his vow to “save England.” Turning away made his way towards the card room, nodding at a few gentlemen as he walked past.

But before he could slip out of sight of the ladies his eyes found Bobbi. He could sense her presence anywhere, even when she made an effort not to be seen. Her ruby gown was stunning, more for the fact that she was wearing it than anything else. The fabric fairly clung to her body and he could imagine a faithful reproduction of her legs from the faint outline he could see. His Bobbi wasn’t one for wearing layers of cloth under her gown. A fact he had been very pleased to experience on several occasions.

Their gazes met across the room for just a second, but she didn’t acknowledge him other than to tilt her chin up slightly and raise her eyebrows as she skirted the crowd, stealing into a passage lit with candles. It looked like she was seeking the ladies’ retiring room, but Hunter would gamble she had something else planned for tonight. He had visited Bedford before and knew that the duke’s library lay down that corridor as well. At least Bobbi wasn’t in any real danger tonight.

Finally entering the card room, Hunter cast his gaze around to find a drink and a suitable game to join. It looked like he would be the one doing all the work at this party.

“Hunter!” The boisterous greeting came from Lord Bedford himself. The man looked an unnatural shade of mottled pink and was clearly three sheets to the wind.

“Lord Bedford,” Hunter replied smoothly, taking a step out of the way when it appeared the man was about to spill his drink right on Hunter’s hessians. His valet would be mortally offended if he returned home with brandy on his boots.

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” Bedford said with a sly look. “Is your wife proving to be too much for you to handle? Those Americans have fire. I wouldn’t mind trying to tame that fire.”

Well...that was unexpected. Hunter blinked at Bedford, trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t end with pistols at dawn or Bedford with a bloodied nose. Also, was Bedford an American sympathizer? He should probably report him to Coulson just in case. It would serve him right for mentioning Bobbi.

“M’youngest’s betrothal is being announced tonight. Lady Bedford can go to the devil now for all I care since her duty with the children is done.” Bedford leaned in and Hunter could practically taste the alcohol emanating from him. “I’m going to find an unhappily married lady to be my mistress and flaunt her in front of the _ton_.”

Hunter grunted in response, trying to remember a polite way to end a conversation. Where the hell was Fitz? They were here together for a reason.

Bedford leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ve heard that if you find one all alone that means they are looking for —“

“Oh, excuse me! I think I see my wife. You understand I’m sure.”

Bedford waved him off and Hunter gladly escaped before he cast up his accounts, which he would almost certainly do if he was forced to hear what Bedford intended to do with this mystery woman.

Bobbi. She could certainly handle herself against this drunken lecher, he had seen her do more than that. But what kind of husband would he be if he didn’t warn her. Bedford’s words also reminded him that much of the _ton_ played fast and loose with their wedding vows. Bedford would be far from the only man looking for comforts outside the marriage bed, and to Hunter’s mind she was the most tempting woman here. In all of London. Probably even beyond that, though Hunter didn’t spend much time outside of town.

His feet were already leading him the way he had seen Bobbi go. He spared a single glance for the ballroom. Fitz was now talking to the chit. All Hunter could see were silky, brown ringlets falling about the woman’s shoulders and Fitz’s flushed face. He forgot how inexperienced Fitz was. Maybe he’d take Fitz to a brothel or something so he could stop making a fool of himself in front of every attractive woman he encountered.

Slipping down the corridor, he was pleased to see that it was nearly deserted, a footman and a maid the only two people he encountered. Neither of them challenged his presence. Moving with more confidence than he felt, Hunter opened the door he thought led to the library and slipped inside, closing the door silently behind him.

“Bobbi,” he hissed, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.

He didn’t see her. Maybe she hadn’t come here after all.

“Bloody hell!” he yelled as a hand came down on his shoulder.

“Maybe you aren’t as good at this as I thought you’d be,” Bobbi said with a smirk. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your life,” he shot back without thinking.

Bobbi raised an eyebrow in question and he inwardly cursed himself for even bothering.

“Bedford is a lecher,” he grumbled.

“I am aware of that,” Bobbi said imperiously, moving past him to continue her search. “But I think he might also be a traitor.”

Hunter reached out to touch her shoulder and let it slide down her arm, current fashion leaving so much soft skin exposed, until he was left with just their entwined fingers.

“Well, as long as you are here you might as well help.”

Hunter lifted her gloved hand to his lips and bowed slightly to kiss her hand. “Of course, my lady.”

Bobbi snorted with laughter, suddenly not a spy or a viscountess, just the woman he fell in love with.

“What are we looking —“

The doorknob turning pushed Hunter into action. He pressed Bobbi roughly against the nearest bookshelf and kissed her, making sure she was completely hidden from view.

The moment their lips touched he knew it was a mistake, knew he wouldn’t be able to stop at just one kiss. That was all part of the spell Bobbi put him under. One touch and he lost all reason.

She wrapped her arms around his back and held him to her, her tongue slipping into his mouth. It was the same as always between them. They were good at this, at least.

He vaguely registered the sound of the door opening and then closing again after a curse and a giggle. Not Bedford, then. But Bobbi was sliding a slippered foot up his leg and canting her hips towards his, and he wrapped his arms more fully around her waist. There was a battle for dominance with their hands and bodies as they shifted positions. Bobbi clearly wanted the upper hand as her fingers gripped the bookcase to get greater leverage. Hunter pressed against her more firmly until she let out a moan.

He pulled back to look into her eyes and saw the same thing he always did in the clear, blue depths. Desire. Need. Longing.

This wasn’t why they were here, but it was an excellent excuse if anyone found them here, so he wrapped his arms around her bottom and lifted her up to perch on the shelf. Her weight balanced between him and the shelves behind her, Bobbi wrapped her legs around his waist.

The feel of her legs wrapped around him drove any other thoughts out of his mind. Pushing her gown up as he inched his fingers up her thigh, he stroked the soft skin and smiled when Bobbi made an impatient sound.

Eyes closed and head tipped back, Bobbi relaxed her hold on the shelf behind her to reach for the fall of Hunter’s breeches.

They were both breathing hard now, and Hunter’s fingers quested higher, seeking the thatch of curls and the honey between her thighs. Her hand impatiently reached for his cock and seconds later he was positioned at her opening, hands gripping her bottom tightly to lift her body as he thrust inside her.

He moaned loudly, the sound echoing through the silent room. Normally he would feel bad, or at least slightly uncomfortable, at the thought of debauching Bobbi in someone else’s home. But Bedford probably deserved it.

Her lips covered his again and he was glad one of them had some sense. There was no point in getting caught _in flagrante_ with your own wife.

Holding her close, he thrust his hips frantically, trying to keep up with her hurried movements and the way she was kissing him like she wanted to devour him.

Her legs tightened around him and his whole body tensed. She felt so good. He wasn’t going to last. Pushing her against the bookcase again, he reached one hand between them and rubbed gently as he shifted the angle of his hips, focusing on her pleasure first.

Luckily she must have missed him as well because she let out a small cry and her body pulsed around him.

“Fuck, Bobbi.”

His muscles were starting to tire and she rested all of her weight on him as her climax rolled through her. If he hadn’t had to focus so hard on keeping himself upright he might have spilled his seed right then. And she might not ever forgive him for that.

Gathering herself she pushed on his shoulders to lift herself up and his cock twitched as he was suddenly bereft of her warmth. Bobbi gave him a smile, that same smile that had drawn him in from the beginning, and licked her lips as she sank to her knees, her skirts pooling around her on the floor.

Her lips wrapped around his cock and he groaned. His hands tangled in her hair, though he tried not to upset her coiffure too much, and he inadvertently thrust his cock deeper into her mouth as she alternated between licking and sucking. But Bobbi just swallowed around him and his climax quickly overtook him, a stream of curses leaving his mouth as she continued to swirl her tongue around him. He leaned forward and rested his head on the shelf in front of him, trying to regain a sense of control. He had come here to make sure Bobbi stayed out of danger, and instead he had distracted them both from their mission. He was so caught up with Bobbi that Napoleon himself could have marched into Bedford’s library and Hunter wouldn’t have noticed.

He softened in her mouth and she did up the buttons on his breeches, but he still didn’t move.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah?” he mumbled, still reliving the last few minutes.

“That was nice. Really nice. But it doesn’t mean I’m coming home.”

“I know. I just don’t know why.”

She moved to stand beside him and sighed, the sound sending goosebumps down his neck.

“Coulson asked me to go undercover in France. And I thought it would be easier if we didn’t have to say goodbye.”

He finally looked up at her and was surprised to see sadness etched on her face.

“Then why involve me now? I was getting used to the idea of letting you go.”

“Because Coulson needs someone like you. You can do a lot of good --”

“This is what you do, Bobbi. I should probably --”

“If you want to stay, then stay. Help Coulson.”

“He does seem like he needs my help.”

Bobbi laughed, and then the moment was over. She returned to her search of the library and Hunter just watched her, knowing that this might be the last time he’d be able to. Eventually she smiled and pulled a piece of paper from the drawer of the writing desk and tucked it into the low neckline of her gown.

“All finished, my lady?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, I found what we needed.”

Bobbi started making her way towards the door, but Hunter cleared his throat and tilted his head towards the large windows overlooking the gardens.

“You look a bit disheveled, love. I’m not sure you’ll pass muster with the high sticklers out there.”

He pushed one of the windows open. They were only a few feet off the ground, so he swung his legs over the windowsill and hopped down. Bobbi’s dress wasn’t quite so accommodating to these sorts of activities and she struggled to gather her skirts around her.

“Just sit on the edge and I’ll catch you.”

Seconds later she was in his arms and he held her close for a moment before setting her down on her feet.

“That’s the third time you’ve saved my life tonight,” she teased with a smile.

“I guess it is,” he agreed. “So what happens now?”

“Well, now you kiss me goodbye and then go back to the ball to find Fitz. Hopefully he isn’t still staring across the ballroom at that girl.”

“You noticed that, too? Nevermind, of course you did.”

They were standing so close it was easy to wrap his arms around her and slide his lips across hers. He meant it to be a gentle kiss, more of a promise than a goodbye, but Bobbi pushed her tongue into his mouth and before he knew it he was molding her body to his. He couldn’t stop the reaction he had to her, and wouldn’t have wanted to anyway.

And then as quickly as it had started, it was over. And Bobbi was gone.

 

_1815_

Bobbi shifted uncomfortably as she sat in the church watching Fitz and Jemma exchange their vows. They were both glowing and Fitz looked like he would be willing to slay dragons for his bride if she asked. She glanced towards the man sitting beside her and wondered if Hunter had looked at her like that when they’d gotten married. She rather thought he had.

Three years undercover for the crown and she’d be willing to do it all again if the interminable ceremony would only end.

Bobbi knew that Jemma was _enceinte_ since Fitz had written Hunter a very excited letter that had left Hunter rolling his eyes about how Fitz just had to fall for the first chit he made eyes at. But Jemma didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects of her condition. And Bobbi only noticed the slight rounding of the other woman’s belly under the lace and flounces on her gown because she knew to look for it.

Bobbi, on the other hand, was desperately trying to control her rebellious stomach. She was using every trick she had learned while undercover not to give away her actual thoughts at the moment, but wasn’t entirely sure it was working.

Fitz and Jemma finished exchanging their vows and Fitz was sliding a ring onto Jemma’s finger, when Bobbi cursed softly under her breath. Her stomach lurched again.

“Alright, love?” Hunter asked, a look of concern on his face.

“Fine,” she whispered back.

Hunter didn’t know, and she couldn’t tell him right now. She hadn’t told him, afraid that he’d either become incredibly smug or start treating her like she was breakable. But now she wished she had. It would be better to have his support right now.

Breathing through her mouth she took a few deep breaths of cool air. She could smell rosewater, and for some reason that very familiar scent was wreaking havoc with her senses.

Then, finally, the ceremony was over and the guests started to retreat towards Fitz’s estate where the wedding breakfast was being held. Hunter handed her up into the carriage and settled onto the seat next to her. He rapped on the door to let the coachman know they were ready to proceed and then turned to her.

“Bobbi, what’s wrong? And no lies.”

“Your brother may not have to be your heir for much longer.”

“Well, he’ll certainly appreciate tha-- Oh, do you mean?”

She nodded and smiled as joy filled Hunter’s face.

He leaned over to kiss her and she relaxed a little bit, letting him take care of her as his arms encircled her gently. It was nice to be able to trust someone again.

“I’m sure Fitz and Jemma wouldn’t mind if we skipped the wedding breakfast.”

“Hunter! It’s their wedding.”

“They’ll understand. We’ll wish them happy...and then I’m going to make sure my wife is very happy.”

“I already am. Though I wouldn’t say no to a nap.”

Hunter wriggled his eyebrows at her. “A nap? Or a _nap_?”

Good to know that Hunter wasn’t planning on treating her like she was delicate.

“A nap,” she said firmly, but laughed at the look of disappointment on his face. “But then maybe we could try the other thing.”

He looked so put out at her words, that she reminded him, “This is all your fault, you know.”

“It is, isn’t it? Well, in that case I guess I’ll just have to live with the consequences.”

“Yes, you will,” she teased, and kissed him again.

They had the rest of their lives to live with the consequences -- of their marriage, her mission to France, this child -- and she intended to enjoy every minute of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @LibbyWeasley


End file.
